


Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out

by dyingpoet



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Curly's flunking English for the second semester in a row
Relationships: Ponyboy Curtis/Curly Shepard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 137





	Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out

“I’m flunking English.”

Pony barely glances up from his page to see Curly in front of him, leaning up against the bookshelf looking so out of place it’s almost funny. “Thought you already flunked English.”

“I  _ did _ , last semester,” he replied just a little too loud, and Pony smirks as a harsh shush sounds off from behind him. “I dunno why you hang ‘round here so much, Christ. Anyway, you’ll tutor me, yeah? ‘Cause Tim’ll really beat my head in if I don’t pass, and I ain’t shelling out no cash for the hospital once he’s through with me.”

Pony sets his book face down and leans back in his chair, rocking it back on two legs and cocking an eyebrow. Curly looks about ready to jump out of his skin hanging in a library this long and it’s fun messing with him. “I dunno, what’s in it for me?"

That got him back to normal real quick, and Pony almost wishes he didn’t say it when Curly falls gracelessly into the chair across from him and leans across the table. Voice going low and so sickeningly sweet he can tell there's a kidding edge to it, he says, “I can think of a thing or two I can do to pay ya back.”

A foot started moving up his calf then and Pony felt his ears heat up despite himself and he shoved Curly away roughly by the shoulders. “Lay off, would ya?”

Curly’s grinning wide, fake pouting when Pony kicks him hard in the shin and he finally drops his foot. He’s never seen Curly blush once in his whole life, not nearly the same thing could be said about himself and Curly took advantage of that whenever he got the chance. 

“You got a real thick skull, ya know that?”

“Would you believe you ain’t the first person to say that to me?” Curly shot back, leaning back in his own chair and popping his knuckles one by one. The librarian walks by, eyeing the two of them before Curly slams his chair back down on four legs and winks at her. After she scurried off Curly leaned his elbows back on the table and cocked his head at Ponyboy. “So? You gonna help me or not?”

“Fine, come by my house after school, and don’t be startin’ no shit with Dally if he’s around, savvy? I know Tim’s still frosted at him for making a pass at Angel.”

“I ain’t exactly jazzed ‘bout it either -  _ fine _ ,” Curly yelped, a hand coming up to catch the book Pony threw at him. “I’ll play nice alright? Don’t flip over it, man, goddamn.”

Pony rolled his eyes and kicked Curly again under the table. Darry and Soda weren’t too keen on him and Curly ‘palling around’ as is, and if he busted up something in their house fighting Dallas they’d have to sneak around more than they already were. “Thank you, now beat it before the librarian has a conniption fit.”

Curly looked over his shoulder at the librarian, who was shooting him glares as she shelved a few books. Pony’d bet money Curly had never set foot in the library for more than a minute before today, but he’d spent the last three years breaking enough shit around the school to have his face burned in every teacher’s memory even if they’d never had him in class.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, doll, I’m just on my way out,” Curly croons, letting out a laugh loud enough to make Pony sink into his chair as the librarian stormed off in another direction. “Might come ‘round here more often, got a real nice audience. Shame ‘bout all the books, though.”

The chair screeched against the floor as Curly pushed himself out from the table, catching Pony’s eye and flipping his book in his hand and tossing it back at him expertly. “I’ll see ya later, Pony, tell your brother to set another plate for me.”

Pony flipped him off as he left and opened his book back up, watching the librarian reappear just as the door slammed shut behind Curly. She took a second to shoot Pony a hard look before moving back behind the front desk and Pony cringed a little.

Curly’s sort of like a magnet. No matter what stupid thing comes out of his mouth or absolutely thick-headed thing he does, he manages to drag people right back in whether they like it or not. Charisma, it’s what sets him off from Tim by a mile, gets him in more trouble.

Gets Pony in more trouble too, good trouble and bad trouble. And he doesn’t mind all that much, if he’s being honest.

Shaking his head, he focuses back in on the page he left off on. Despite himself, he starts grinning.

* * *

“ _ Hey _ Soda-can, how’s it hangin’?”

Pony’s head shot up from the dishes he was trying to dry off and he wiped his hands on his shirt quickly, heading for the living room. 

Soda is leaning up against the front door frame, and Pony can feel annoyance coming off him in waves as Curly cranes his neck to look over his shoulder and catches sight of Pony.

“Baby Curtis! You got some real top notch security at this place. Y’all hidin’ some shit for the FBI or somethin’?”

Grumbling something under his breath, Soda moves over so Curly can walk in, and Pony’s glaring at him but he pretends not to notice. Instead he walks right up to him and props an elbow up on his shoulder, real close, and Soda gives the two of them a look like cut glass.

Pony gulps. “I’m uh, I’m tutoring him in English, Soda. He asked me at school and I told ‘im he could come over tonight.”

Soda doesn’t look reassured, Curly doesn’t exactly have the best track record with either of his brothers, and Curly knows it, too. Pony can see him smirking out of the corner of his eye and he wants to sink into a floorboards just a little.

There’s a tense couple seconds where Soda doesn’t say anything, just looks between the two of them before finally landing on Curly. “Ain’t they got kids at school who’re supposed to do that? Tutoring service or somethin’?”

Curly dropped his arm from Pony’s shoulder and rocked back on his heels, cocking his head at Soda. “They do, but the way  _ I _ figure it, why should I put up any scratch for that when I got a good buddy like Pony-kid here who’ll do a bang up job for free?”

It looks like Soda’s about to smart back with something when the screen door flew open and Dallas barreled in. For once Pony was actually relieved to see the hood, mostly because Curly wasn’t.

Dallas took about two steps forward and stopped dead once he saw Curly. He smirked and Curly stiffened. It was sort of like if you watched one of those nature shows on public broadcast and saw two wolves staring each other down, except Curly’d be the one that got ganged if he made a move, and Pony knew it. 

He grabbed his wrist just as Dallas drawled out, real slow, “Hey Curly, how’s it goin - hey, how’s your sister doin’?”

Soda sort of stepped in front of Dallas a little, shielding him and looking between the two of them carefully. Pony tugged on Curly’s wrist a little, the muscle underneath had gone tense.

“Why don’t you do the whole fuckin’ neighborhood a favor and wander off into traffic, huh Winston?”

At that point, Curly was letting Pony drag him off into the hallway and Dallas, thank god, wasn’t making to follow them. Kept running his mouth good though.

“Aw that ain’t real nice, I can see where Angel gets that mouth’a hers from,” Dallas called out, and Pony managed to shove Curly in his room and shut the door before he could do more than shout a curse through the wood.

“Curly-  _ hey  _ \- Curly, don’t get twisted about it, he’s just fuckin’ with you for kicks.” 

Curly let out a tight breath and balled his fists and move to sit down on the bed after a moment. Pony figured if he wanted to knock Dallas one he’d be out the door already, so he sat down next to him, the mattress creaking as he did. “You, uh, bring your stuff?”

He caught the raggedy book Curly threw against his chest. It was 1984. “I gotta write an essay on it for Schwarz’s class.”

“You read it?”

“Had to.” Curly shrugged and shoved at Pony’s head when he bit back a smile. Curly picked up on Tim’s ‘I don’t give a shit about anyone or anything’ act a long time ago, but he actually did try in school. Just wasn’t too quick on the uptake was all. “Oh stuff it, you prob’ly rubbed one out to the damn thing, givin’ me fuckin’ static.”

“I didn’t say nothin’,” Pony replied easily. He took a minute or so to flip through the book - all the essay’s they had to write past sophomore year could be on anything, so it’d get by faster if he refreshed his memory on it. “You got any, uh, ideas for what you wanna write -  _ glory  _ Curly knock it off, will ya?”

The other had moved to sit as close as he could get without being in his lap, and Pony slapped his hand away from his lower back and threw a glance at the closed door. Curly didn’t seem to mind none, he was clinger than most girls he knew, and moved his arm to hang loosely around Pony’s waist.

“Aw c’mon, I go to all this trouble to get us  _ alone- _ ”

Curly ducked when Pony threw the book, narrowly missing his head, and felt himself smiling despite the rock sitting in his stomach. For how thick Curly could be, they’d never gotten caught. They couldn’t, it wasn’t an option and they both knew it. 

“Like I’d wanna be alone with a dumb hood like you.” Pony reached over Curly to grab the book and fought down a yelp when his arm was grabbed and he was thrown down on the mattress, flat on his back. Curly was smiling down at him, hair wild and half-covering his eyes

“You like me, Curtis.”

“Strictly from hunger.”

Curly growled teasingly as Pony moved to sit up and snatched the book up off the bed as he did. “You’re a shit liar.”

“Yeah, and you’re shit at English so let’s run the damn thing down, ‘kay?” Pony let his voice grate enough that Curly rolled his eyes and actually tried to sit still while Pony threw out ideas for what he should write.

The T.V. was on in the other room, Pony could hear it softly through the door, and he figured if they wrapped up fast enough Curly could cut out before Darry got home. If Soda got tee’d off about Curly, Darry was always worse, having grown up around Tim more than the rest of them.

Curly was looking over the rough outline Pony’s scribbled down onto a sheet of paper, biting his lips and squinting down at it like it was French homework instead of English. “This’ll get an A?”

“Should, I mean, I can look over the actual essay once ya write it all out, but it’s solid, yeah,” Pony answered, leaning over Curly’s shoulder to look at the paper. When he did, the other turned his head quickly and got one kiss in, then got a rough punch to the shoulder a beat later.

“Hey, I’m just tryna show my gratitude ‘n all,” Curly said, voice so low it was almost a purr, and he moved forward again, grinning when Pony laughed and shoved at his face weakly. “You ain’t any fun, ya know that-”

The front door slamming stopped both of them dead, and Curly was up and on the other side of the bed, book in hand faster than Pony could blink. There was the sound of voices, Darry was definitely home, and Pony tried to look what he figured might be casual when Darry walked in without knocking.

He looked between the two of them, eyes lingering on Curly longer than his brother. “Soda said you’re helpin’ him with English?”

“Sure is,” Curly said, back on his cocky smart ass routine and Pony tried his best not to laugh. “You got yourself a real good teacher here, Curtis. But did he scare me straight,  _ whew _ , I mean, I’m thinkin’ about cleaning my act up and applying to one of them fancy Kansas City schools now, I really am.”

Darry rolled his eyes and Pony snorted, pulling an innocent enough face when Darry gave him a look. “Yeah I bet. You better get goin’, I don’t need Tim bustin’ down my door hollerin’ ‘bout how he don’t know where his kid brother is.”

“Well I wouldn’t lose any sleep over somethin’ like that,” Curly said, but he was getting up and gathering his stuff anyhow. “We ain’t exactly the Partridge Family if ya know what I mean.”

Darry didn’t answer, and Curly threw a look back at Pony as he brushed past Darry. If it’d been anyone else, he would have smarted off a while longer, but people knew well enough not to mess with Darry, he was too big a guy for it. 

“It’s been a real gas, Pony-kid, I’ll see ya at school bright and early tomorrow.” He winked then and walked out, and Darry stared at the floor until the door slammed shut behind him, then he looked up and narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t like you hangin’ around the Shepard’s, they ain’t nothin’ but a walking crime scene, ‘specially Curly.”

“He just needed help with an essay, Dar, it wasn’t nothin’. We were here the whole time,” Pony said, leaning back on the bed and holding Darry’s gaze until the older sighed and broke it off. 

“Alright, just make sure you got all yer own homework done before you start doin’ the rest of the neighborhood’s, yeah?” Darry said, and if it was about anything other than Curly Pony might’ve shot back with something, but he let it drop and Darry left, shutting the door as he did.

Laying back against the bed, he studied the ceiling tiles for a while. Curly “a walking crime scene” Shepard. It fit the bill pretty damn close sometimes. Not always though, Curly talked a big game and backed most of it right up, but at the heart of it he was sort of sweet, in a bitter kind of way.

Pony always thought himself bitter in a sweet kind of way, so it worked, the two of them. It worked just fine.


End file.
